Between A Rock And A Hard Place
by Insanity's Best Friend
Summary: Ok, I'll make this short. Jack saves girl, girl in trouble, Jack help girl, girl help Jack, Jack love girl, girl love Jack. Better summary inside.
1. Driftwood

**Disclaimer**:I do not own POTC or any of the characters, to my ever-lasting sorrow. Ok, I'm over it now.

**Rating**: R because I don't have self-control.

**Summary**: Ok, um, the thing that happens basically is that Raven –I know, I know, it's boring and over used! Sue me for liking the name- washes out to sea, only to be rescued by Jack Sparrow. As they fall in love –I did mention I'm a romantic, right?- they have to fight multiple external forces –I'm not studying for mid-years shifty eyes- who want to have Raven for their own evil –very- purposes, because Raven isn't as normal as Jack –or even she- thinks.

**Note**:Please review! But be nice, this is my first fanfic, like, ever. Sorry 'bout the spelling mistakes and such. My comp hates me, so I'm just happy I got hte bloody story onto the net as it is. I'll get the hang of this...eventually.

**Chapter 1**

**Drift Wood**

It was a typical, mid-July morning on the Caribbean Sea. It was hot, warm, and humid. Captain Jack Sparrow stood at the helm of his ship, the Black Pearl, watching the turbulent waters churn around the ship. Clouds seemed to smother the sea and Jack knew it would rain before night fell. He watched the water turn and turn, completely empty and steel grey, reflecting the dark sky. The crew scurried around, keeping the ropes in order and the sails taught. His second mate, Gibbs, was sleeping off his exhaustion after coming down with some obscure sickness. Jack simply hoped that it was not contagious or fatal.

Jack's eyes scanned the horizon out of habit. He watched a small piece of driftwood bob along, coming closer and closer to the ship. Jack raised a hand to his face, rubbing at his semi-closed eyes. The night had been too short and the morning had come too soon. He went back to watching the driftwood absent-mindedly.

Then, a thought occurred to him. What was driftwood doing this far out at sea? His dark eyes focused on the black splotch. As it came closer, he began to see other colours. A deep maroon, pale tan, a lob of navy lob and a raven black. It was a woman, floating along with the sea.

Without a second thought to his own safety, Jack threw a rope other the wheel to hold it steady, shed his overcoat and his weapons and dove into the churning sea.

Water didn't scare him. Jack had often wondered is even being caught in an undertow would scare him. But the sea was a part of him, he was no more able to fear it then a nursing child can fear its mother. Jack began to stroke towards the girl. He could hear some one, most likely Anna-Maria, calling his name. The crew would probably be worried about his safety for days to come. _If only they knew_, Jack thought tartly as he swam.

Because he was swimming with the current, it did not take him long to catch up with the woman. She was mercifully small, but her thin dress was soaked. Jack regretted having left his boot knife on board. He could hardly swim against the current carrying her, much less her weighty dress, as thin and minimal as it was. Jack grabbed harshly at the lacing and gave one decisive tug, tearing the entire thing off, leaving her only in her thin undershirt and pantaloons. Jack slid an arm around her waist, and headed back to the ship.

When he got there, he snatched the rope someone had wisely thrown out for him. Numerous crewmembers pulled Jack back on board with the girl. Jack laid her down on the deck, brushing a soaking braid of hair out of his face as he bent over her. Her breathing was shallow and she didn't look all too good. She was shaking like a leaf, a clear indication that the abnormally cold water had gotten to her. Jack grabbed her shoulder to roll her over, but received a different reaction.

The woman cried out, her glassy eyes flashing open to reveal green irises like emeralds surrounded by streaks of red. She screamed a word in a language other then English. The woman lay on the deck, sobbing and blabbing in her language and clutching her shoulder where Jack had touched it.

The woman lay there, gasping for air until Jack gently cupped her chin and began to talk to her, slowly in English.

"Miss, it's alright. Yer safe now. Yer on the Black Pearl. T'es sauvé," Jack said soothingly. The woman gave a hiccupping laugh as Jack spoke the last part. She continued to sob, but she now longer cursed in the language Jack identified as French. The group stared at the woman in observant silence. Even with clothes, she would have been a site. Both of her eyes were blood-shot far deeper then could be done by seawater. Her right eye was a deep purple, and there was a long cut on her arm that could only have been made by a sword. It was closed up, but only barely, indicating that it was a fresh wound. There were other sword wounds on her arms and face and bruises covered her entire body. Most of the cuts were older then the large gouge of her arm and some were simply scars. The woman's shoulder bore a deep, black patch on it that was very plainly visible through her soaking under-shirt. The woman held her right hand against her chest protectively.

"L'aise moi voir ta main," Jack said. The woman gave a hysterical giggle but only clutched her hand closer to her chest.

"Tom," Jack called.

"Yes sir."

"Heave to."

"Aye Cap'n."

"Anna-Maria, see if ye can't find some clothes for the lass."

"Aye." Anna-Maria paused a few feet away and watched as Jack scooped the woman up gently in his arms and began carrying her to the cabins.

"Cap'n?"

"That be my title," Jack said in his trademark tone, dripping with sarcasm, only he wasn't smiling. Jack turned to face Anna-Maria, shifting the woman's weight effortlessly. The woman seemed to have lost consciousness, but Anna-Maria heard her sharp, albeit subtle, intake of breath as Jack rearranged her in his arms.

"What are we to do with her?" Anna-Maria gestured to the woman, who seemed small in Jack's arms, even though she probably stood just as tall as he did. Jack glanced down at her.

"That'd be me problem now. I'll set her to rights."

Anna-Maria nodded and went off to her cabin in search of some decent clothes. Jack carried the woman into an unused cabin. Normally, Will Turner used this cabin when he decided to take a run with Jack and the crew, so naturally it was well furnished. But it was the only free cabin and the woman wasn't going anywhere.

Jack lay the woman down on the floor, not wanting the water in her clothes to spread to her bed. As she relaxed onto the floorboards in her would-be sleep, her right hand slipped into view. Even though he had seen many horrible things in his time, Jack couldn't help but gasp at her hand. Its absence would have shocked him less. Her fingers were broken in many places and one was even twisted right around in two places.

"Mary mother of God…Lass, what happened to yer hand," Jack asked, kneeling back down to get a better view. He was so taken back that he forgot she didn't understand English and that she was supposed to be asleep. The woman's eyes fluttered open and she glanced down at her hand. When she took in the sight that was the ending of her own limb, she moaned and dropped her head back onto floor.

Jack stared in amazement at her hand.

"Well, you're a fine mess," he said absent-mindedly, his eyes still fixed on her hand. The woman snorted cynically, her gaze turned away from Jack. Anna-Maria came clomping through the door just then. In an instant, she took in the site that was the woman's hand, dropped the stack of clothes and backed away, her hands to her mouth, eyes wide. Jack got up, blocking Anna-Maria's view of the horror. He heard her utter a few curses in Spanish as she gaped behind her hands.

"Very befitting language for a lady such as yer'self," Jack chastised lightly. "I need 'er out of those rags, or she'll sink the entire ship," Jack said casually, trying to ease Anna-Maria's discomfort. Jack left the room, closing the door behind him. When Anna-Maria emerged, she looked whiter then snow, but the woman was dressed in one of the two loose fitting shirts and a pair of loose beige slacks.

"I'll be thanking ye Anna," Jack said as he picked the girl up and placed her on the bed, where Anna-Maria covered her with some sheets to try and ward off the shivers that wracked the woman's eerily thin body.

"Now, if you'll go get a bottle of whisky, some scrapes of cloth and a small end'a' wood, it'd be much the better. 'N' maybe a belt of some form," Jack added as an after thought." Anna-Maria nodded and turned to leave. But again she turned back to Jack.

"Jack, n'er 'ave I seen such things, but heard of 'em ay'ave. Only prisoner's who've been tortured would bear such a thing." Anna-Maria looked again at the mangled hand and repressed a shudder before she went off in search of the things needed.

"She's right, you know." Jack whirled to face the woman, one hand on his sword. She had a young voice, full of pain and sorrow with only the slightest accent. She was staring at the ceiling now, but Jack's sudden motion drew her gaze.

'And I thought ye only spoke French. Fool I am." Jack dropped down onto the stool he had dragged alongside the bed. The woman made a _pfuit_ sound. Anna-Maria returned momentarily with a bottle of the ships oldest whiskey.

"I thought it best give it time to work," she said, eyeing the woman nervously.

"Ay," Jack answered thoughtfully, working the bottle open. "But it won't do much."

Anna-Maria left abruptly, not wanting to stay near the woman for very long; almost as though she were a leper. She and Jack sat in silence for a moment.

"So," Jack began conversationally as he helped the woman sit up. He handed her the bottle of liquor. "What are ye doing floating around out on the sea all on yer own then?"

The woman shifted uneasily as she took a sip of the drink. She didn't respond for a long while, but simply sat there, staring through some unseen portal through time and space.

"Your g'on' ta have to drink more'n that if ye dun' wan'ta feel the world spinning for an hour when ye come to," Jack said matter-of-factly, still not ill at east because of the woman, but mostly wondering how much sanity she still possessed. The woman shrugged as though she didn't care. She raised the bottle to her lips and took a long draught from it. Jack watched, fascinated, as she downed the better half of the bottle. She sat quiet for a few more moments, still staring into nothing.

"I was thrown off of my ship," she said quietly after many minutes. Anna-Maria returned to see Jack watching the woman. Anna-Maria frowned, handing Jack the shreds of cloth and the smallest pieces of wood she had found in the hold. She tugged a small belt off its perch around her neck and gave him that too.

"Jack, d'ye want me to send one of the others down to help?" Anna-Maria was shifty, the woman's hand still making her nervous. Jack glanced at the woman, who continued to watch things unseen. Jack shook his head. Anna-Maria nodded and left quickly. Jack pulled as many of the splinters off of the wood as he could, then wrapped it with cloth, padding it so it wouldn't cut her. Though she probably wouldn't have noticed, what with all her cuts and bruises.

Jack avoided talking as he worked, trying to make the woman comfortable, even though she seemed to be far from caring about anything. When he had prepared the wood, he glanced at the bottle of whiskey sitting in the woman's lap. There was a small gulp left, swishing around in the bottom of it.

"Ye best finish the last of it," Jack said, indicating the amber liquid. The woman nodded and downed the remainder of the drink. It occurred to Jack that he still didn't know the woman's name.

'Well, here's what I'm goin' to do," Jack began. "For yer … _better_ three fingers, I'm goin' to re-break 'em and straighten them along the wood, then I'll splint 'em. But yer other finger… well, I'm going to have to re-break that too and spin it back 'round. I don't expect ye'll stay conscious for any u'that, but I figured ye may like t'know what I'm about ta do." Jack watched the woman's face. Not even meeting his eyes, she nodded as he finished. Jack paused a moment, then handed the woman the belt, taking form her in return the bottle. Obligingly, she placed the leather between her teeth, eyes still diverted.

Jack watched her face for a moment, and then gently picked up her wrist. As gently as he could, he took hold of her index finger. It was crooked in two places, giving it the appearance of a Z. He held it just above the first break. The woman hadn't flinched once yet and Jack took some courage from that.

"Ye realize," Jack said as he cracked her finger in the opposite direction of the break. She was taken by surprise, her teeth clenched down on the leather and tears formed in her eyes, but she was still very awake. Gently, Jack twisted her finger around, trying to straighten it as much as possible. "that ye may ne'er use this hand again."

The woman nodded, tears streaming down her face. Jack slid his fingers up to the second break, careful to hold the other half of her finger as well, lest his work should come undone.

"Now the second part," Jack continued as he cracked the second break and twisted it back into place. A muffled scream came from the woman's mouth, but she didn't try to take her hand back, nor did she lose consciousness. "That's good lass," Jack said as he straightened her finger along the wood.

"Yer a real fighter lass. Yer finger is more er less back to itself," Jack said soothingly. Jack took her finger and the piece of wood and lay her finger along it, making absolute certain that it was straight. He placed her hand on the wood, which lay along the edge of the bed. Her second finger was only broken in one place, just between the tip and the last knuckle.

"Well," Jack began again as crooked her finger forward, straightening this one onto the board in its turn. "Ye seem to be doin' alright, so far's yer fingers go." Jack had a look at her last finger, not wanting to begin the horror that was her ring finger. Jack continued talking, trying to keep the woman at ease as her worked diligently at her fingers.

"But," Jack said, twisting the little finger around some so it sat properly. "I can' imagine ye dun feel to great now, e'en though yer doin' quite well, luv." The woman nodded as Jack snapped the second part of her finger back into place.

"That's it luv," he said as he straightened her finger on the board. The fourth finger still lay mangled; Jack felt compelled to let the poor woman rest some. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket, wiping at her face. He pulled the belt out of her mouth.

"And the other one?" The woman asked. Jack shook his head.

"Later, when yer more up for it. Let's talk for a bit, shall we?" The woman, no, girl, nodded. Jack studied her face for a few moments. Now that he actually looked at her, he saw that she really was young.

"How old are ye?" Jack's voice was level and bore no emotion, even though a small, weaker part of him wanted to run from the finger that lay in a twisted mound of flesh. The girl looked at him.

"I've seen thirty-two summers," she said soberly, her eyes showing that she was lying.

"No, ye haven't. Yer no more then twenty-four, and that's pushing it so far's ay'm concerned. So," Jack said patiently. The girl sighed.

"I'm nineteen," she said quietly.

"And there's no one looking for ye, a fine girl as yerself?"

The girl shook her head vigorously, eyes widening.

"There's no one. Please, if it were possible, I'd much prefer to stay here. I can work for my keep and I won't be any trouble, I swear." Her voice was pleading and desperate. Jack eyed her.

"Yer on the run aren't ye?" The girl nodded her head sadly. Jack considered her for a moment.

"Well, I don't see why not. But I won' have ye working till these have set good and well. I'll not have ye disturbing me work here," he said nodding at her hand. Jack began sliding a band of cloth beneath the wood, preparing it for when he'd tie it to her fingers.

He had decided it was time to fix the last finger. He studied it for a few moments. It had been broken in two places, each part twisted in opposite directions. He'd have to re-break both parts and twist them half way back around.

Jack handed the girl the belt. There was no foreboding in her eyes, just sadness. Even though she had just endured a horrible pain, she was prepared to bear more.

"Ye must be running from Satan himself, lass, for ye not to fear the pain as ye clearly don'." As he said this, he broke her finger with some difficulty. It must have been the earliest break, since it seemed to have already begun to heal in its twisted position. The girl's eyes clenched together and her jaw clamped down on the leather. She screamed through the belt, her face red and her tears leaving shining trails on her face. Jack twisted the finger around carefully and quickly, deciding that the faster this was over, the better. It wasn't like he could make it any less painful then it already was. The girl panted through the belt when he had finished.

"That's it, luv, just scream it out. One more," he said, breaking the last twist. It was less difficult then the other, but not by much. The girl screeched through her clenched teeth, her other hand encircling Jack's arm rather painfully. Jack let her to it; she was going through much worse pain then she could do to his arm. Still working with quick, careful motions, Jack spun her finger around. There was definitely something beginning to happen in his stomach as he watched his hands work, his mind having long since separated from his body.

"Hold on luv, I'm almost finished," he said gently, quelling the nauseous feeling that was growing rather steadily. Very surprisingly, the girl was still conscious, even though he had just fixed seven breaks, two of which were particularly severe. Jack flattened her finger along the wood and began to tie her hand onto the plank, taking care to tie all the fingers tight enough so that they would not heal crooked, but loose enough that they would not cut her circulation.

"So lass, d'ye 'ave a name," Jack asked, more to distract him from his own sick feeling then to ease the girls discomfort, particularly since she didn't seem very social to begin with. Jack was fairly certain he wouldn't last much longer, but he was insistent on finishing the job he had started before he did anything else.

The girl released Jack's arm, which had begun to tingle somewhat, to remove the belt from her mouth. She tossed it to the floor and wiped at her face with Jack's handkerchief, which had lain not far from her now straight fingers.

"I had a name," she said, her voice crackling slightly from her screaming. "But I've left that child behind me. I've changed; I'm not her." Jack look at her, meeting her eyes.

"Aye, ye aren't a child. Over man'd 'ave been lying cold, but yer still here, talking with me. Yer brave and strong, luv. And lucky. Ye could have floated with the current till ye were dead. But, the crew can' call ye by lass n luv all the time."

The girl nodded.

"Call me…Raven," she said finally. Jack grinned. It was the perfect name for her. Her hair was blacker then that of the creature she had called herself and her skin was fair.

"Raven it is then." He stood, leaving her splinted hand where it was on the bed. She slunk lower into sheets that Anna-Maria had wisely brought for her. She was no longer shivering, but she still looked sickly pale. Jack turned to leave, that nauseous feeling beginning to become uncontrollable.

"Wait," Raven said quietly, her voice beginning to grow weak as the pain and the liquor began to take complete control. Jack turned to her, his face an ashen colour from his attempts to restrain himself.

"I know you are captain, and I believe I know who you are, but I must be certain. What is your name?" Raven's eyes were watching Jack's face, their green depths calm and patient. Jack took a deep breath.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl," he said. His tone lacked most of its usual gusto, but still managed to sound imperial and powerful just the same. Raven smiled as she closed her eyes and nodded.

"Thank you," she said whispered. Her tone was truly grateful. Jack nodded and left quietly, closing the door behind him before sprinting up to the deck where he allowed his normally stable stomach to over turn itself out unto the sea.

But regardless to all the questioning looks the crew shot at him, Jack knew why he was so upset. She was only a child, younger then twenty and someone had intentionally broken her fingers, probably daily for some time. It had been a gruesome sight and one that he would take to his grave. He may have been a pirate, but he was still a man. He had morals, values and personal rules. _It's people like those that harmed that girl that who should hang_, Jack thought as he straightened himself.


	2. Run In

Ok, u ppl know the drill. I don't own POTC or Jack Sparrow –shame- but Raven is mine!

And no, she's not me or anything. Actually, I based her on my best friend who, coincidentally has 'raven' black hair -.- and sorry bout the entire finger thing. I kinda based that on my hand, which I managed to bust the other weak. But nothing near as bad as poor Raven. Ok, um, right. One other thing. Im not sure how many of u realize that even 1 finger treated like that –as in, in the way Jack had to treat Raven's fingers, cuz he really had no choice- and she shoulda been out like light regardless as to whether or not she had had alcohol. Well, maybe two fingers… But still, u get the gist. So, just so u know; keep that in mind. It's kinda important. Anything else…..nope. Btw, thanx for the reviews! I love u Tatevique Eye!

Chapter 2

Run In

Raven slept throughout the course of four days. Jack and Anna-Maria took turns watching over her. She broke out in a fever after the first day, but it dwindled and disappeared after the third day. She was rarely lucid enough to do more then ask for water. But on the fourth day, Raven opened her eyes to face a world that she had never known.

She sat up, examining her surroundings. She was lying in a clean bed that sat in the corner of a small and cramped, albeit neat, room aboard what could only be a ship. The room was filled with the bed, a beautiful mahogany chest of drawers a plain oak desk and a tiny burro on which stood a basin and a towel. The walls were paneled in a deep wood –which had undoubtedly been furnished only recently, due to its perfect state- and a gorgeous pattern of pale beige flowers, painted directly onto the wall after the paneling ended. The small portal was covered with a thin white lace covering that had the intricate pattern of swans. All in all, it was a beautiful room.

Raven pushed herself up with her left hand, which was still thankfully in working order. She paused, feeling somewhat light headed. The liquor had long since worn away, but she hadn't eaten for many days. Slowly, she got off of the bed and hobbled over to the burro. With her good hand, she splashed her face with water, trying to clean away the grime of too much sleep. She grab bed the towel next and whipped her face off. When she was finished, she folded the towel and made to set it back down when she saw the embroidery on the corner. Her heart stopped at the small stitches that said _Royal Navy of Britain._ She was on a ship of the fleet, filled with soldiers. She was back where she did not want to be.

Heart beating like a crazed drummer, she ran out of the room and up the stairs to the deck with every intention of throwing herself over board, when she ran headlong into a man. She didn't have time to see what he looked like before she was flat on her back and coughing her life away. She had been severely winded by her connection with the sailor and she couldn't get her breath back. The man was in front of her now. She couldn't concentrate on his face because tears were coming into her eyes. The man said something and pulled out a handkerchief which he held just under her mouth. Gently, he helped her up and onto the deck. The powerful scent of the salt air hit her hard and her breath caught, sending the coughs away. The man pulled the handkerchief away and looked at it.

Jack looked at his handkerchief. It was covered in blood. Raven had coughed blood. He frowned. This was not good at all. Jack looked back at the girl, who was watching him. He smiled to hide his sudden discomfort.

"Sleep well?"

Raven nodded, her eyes meeting his gaze. She had a gaze that completely hid all her emotions. It was neither brazen, nor timid, threatening nor passive. Her gaze was impossibly green and neutral. But her facial expression said what her eyes did not. She was confused, but not scared. At least not any more.

"Sir," she said questioningly.

"Ay," Jack said, trying not to smirk at the respectful title.

"Are we on a ship of the fleet?"

Jack's jaw slacked off somewhat. Then he understood why she thought this. He grinned, suppressing a roar of laughter which would have probably offended Raven.

"Lass, the towels, they're pilfered."

Raven's face eased up as she finally understood a bit better.

"So, this is a pirate ship?"

Jack nodded.

"Would ye like us ta leave ye off at the next town?" Jack asked again, wondering if her reaction to the question would be different now that she was sober. But again, Raven seemed desperate to stay away from land.

"No," Raven exclaimed. Quickly, she collected herself and spoke again.

"Like I've already said before Captain, I'd much prefer to stay on board the Black Pearl and serve as a crew member."

Jack frowned, but nodded just the same. She was definitely on the run.

"Ay lass. So, how's yer 'and?"

Raven glanced down at her encased hand. She raised it up to show to Jack, who took it gently by the wrist so that he didn't jostle it too much. Raven bit her lip lightly.

"It hurts some when I move, so I haven't bothered to try. Besides that, I think it is fine."

Jack nodded. There wasn't much to say really. He wanted to ask her what she was running from, but he also felt that a question like that would be too prying for someone he had just met. Jack decided to give her time.

The ship sailed unchallenged for the rest of the day, most of which Raven spent in bed. At about noon, Raven awoke again and went up on deck where she took a seat on a crate and took comfort from the sea air. As she watched the sea, Raven began to notice that there was something else on the horizon other then the two islands that they were about to pass through. Eventually, it became known to Raven, jack and the entire crew that it was a ship.

Jack kept his eye on the ship. When there were maybe 2 leagues between the ship and the Pearl, Tom, who was scouting from the crow's nest, hollered down that it was a ship of the fleet. Jack frowned. He wasn't worried. It was a small ship and probably couldn't carry more then 20 men. His ship could hold up to 40, even though most of the cabins had been used for storage, since their trade required that they carry stolen goods. But, all technicalities removed, Jack had 32 men on board, no counting Gibbs and Raven, neither of whom could fight.

"Jack," a voice hissed in his ear. Jack spun around, one hand on his sword, having been thoroughly startled. When he saw it was Raven, he relaxed, only to tense again at the terrified expression on her face. She was muttering under her breath and from the little amount of French he knew, Jack could tell she was mingling curses and prayers.

"Jack," she said again, too scared to remember her formalities.

"They're here for me. They're guarding this pass, they know I'm out here, on the ocean and they want me. Please, I'm begging you, don't hand me over."

Jack looked at her pleading eyes. He glanced back out to the ship, which would be close enough to see her in a matter of minutes. He had time for only one question before he could make his decision.

"Lass, did someone r'lated to the Navy do that to ye?"

Raven nodded hurriedly. Jack watched her face for half a second, and then decided that he was going to hide her. He called Anna Maria up to man the wheel. Gently, Jack took Raven by the arm and steered her down to one of the smallest store rooms filled with weapons. This was the last place they'd look for her. There was the least amount of hiding space, but he had no intention of letting them get this far into the ship. Without a word, Jack pushed Raven behind a bound pile of bows. He shoved a sack of arrows and swords towards her on either side, closing her into the small corner. If it came to that, they would hopefully over-look the tiny room.

Jack hurried back on deck, where he saw that the other ship was now a matter of meters away from the Pearl. And standing by the bulwarks was Jack's least favorite soldier of the Navy.

"Commodore Norrington, to what do I owe the honor?" Jack said, waving his hands towards the small ship.

"The disappearance of a young French lady. She fell over board and now the fleet is attempting to find her. She has a very high social standing and I have given orders to search every ship in all the major passages and straights. Funny how I chose the same one that you would chose. Now, I'm afraid I'll have to have your ship searched." As he spoke, his crew had come alongside and positioned a gangway between the two ships.

"Sorry, Commodore," Jack said, moving to cut off the sailors who had begun to try and board the Pearl.

"'Fraid I can' let ye do that'," Jack was playing it cool, his tones more slurred then normal to hide his discomfort and the fact the his hand was positioned on his pistol, ready to draw and begin shooting.

"Mister Sparrow," the Commodore said as he drew and cocked his pistol, aiming it right at Jack's head.

"I don't think you have a choice. No, step aside or I will pull the trigger. And trust me when I tell you I will take great pleasure in doing so."

Jack would have said something that would have probably landed him at the bottom of the ocean, but right about then, an arrow ran right through the Commodore's hat sending it to the deck where the arrow pinned it down. Everyone turned to see who had shot the arrow. And everyone received a shock.

Standing at the helm holding a bow taller then she was, Raven drew another arrow from the quiver that she had attached to her back. She strung it onto the bow, holding it with her thumb, the only digit in her hand that was still in working condition.

"Commodore," she called down, her voice was cold and hard.

"That," she drew the arrow back, aiming at his chest now. "was a warning shot. So, unless you wish to have this arrow flagging around in your dead skull, I strongly advise you get back on your ship and sail away and never mention anything about this."

From the corner of his eye, Jack saw a sailor draw a gun and begin to take aim at Raven. Raven saw his motions too. Instantly, she repositioned herself and loosed the arrow which knocked the pistol right out of the sailor's hand and onto the deck where it went off, putting a bullet harmlessly into the bulwarks of the navel ship. In another smooth motion, she drew another arrow and re-strung it, aiming again at Commodore Norrington, who was gaping like a fish out of water at Raven.

"Well Commodore?"

"Miss Charron, I must ask why you are will to fight to stay on this pirate ship when I am perfectly willing to personally escort u back to Port Royale. After you were removed from the Angel by Mister Lanyard, we were all very worried about your well-being. Particularly when we found him several days later, dead in the life boat and you not with him."

Raven's expression slackened into one of shock.

"What…what do you mean Lanyard…took me off the ship?" Raven's grip on the arrow loosened so that it was aiming harmlessly at the deck.

"Well, he took a life boat and brought you with him. We found him with a knife in his chest so we assumed you had escaped. Thus, all of the passages are to be…"

Raven broke him off, the arrow once again notched and aimed at the Commodore's head.

"Well that's where you are wrong, Commodore. What ever Lanyard was doing alone at sea has nothing to do with me, I can assure you. Now, leave this ship."

The Commodore flinched as Raven pulled the arrow back even tighter. He took a step back, but he kept talking.

"But Miss Charron, your Mr. Anderson would much like to have you back. If he were to know that I left you here, in the hands of a pirate, particularly one as vulgar as Mr. Sparrow, it would be most unpleasant for me and many others."

"First off, Mr. Sparrow has been very hospitable to me thus far. He has not abused me in any way and nor has his crew. And secondly, I don't much care what happens to you or Frederic. That is no longer my concern. I have made a choice and it is my choice to make. I am staying on this ship so long as I am permitted. And you," Raven tugged a little harder on the bow that was sure to snatch the arrow out of her hand. "are leaving."

Norrington nodded nervously and climbed back aboard his ship. When the plank had been lifted, he hollered over to Raven.

"And what am I to tell Mr. Anderson?" He was pulling at straws now, trying desperately to get Raven onto his ship and back to this…Anderson. _Funny,_ Jack thought. The name rang a bell in his head. But he ignored it as Raven threw her answer, full of contempt, into the wind to Norrington.

"You may tell him exactly this: I have no desire to be rescued and I do not advice he attempt to do so. If, however he fails to heed my warning, I will gladly kill him. Do tell him that for me Commodore. I don't much feel like doing so myself."

Norrington nodded, but he was defeated. He could have easily ordered an attack, but Mrs. Charron was important. He had received special orders to keep her absolutely safe. And she seemed too defiant to pluck away from the ship. He decided he'd risk the consequences and let her stay with Sparrow. For now.

When the small navel ship had left the pirate ship behind them, Raven dropped to the ground, the bow falling with her and the arrow clattering to the ground. She stared down at her hands, but she didn't seem to see them. It was as though she were staring through a portal that let her see through space and time. Jack knelt down beside her.

"Raven?" he asked, his voice not giving away any emotion.

Raven continued to watch her hands, but she answered him anyways.

"Sparrow, he'll be back."

The statement shocked Jack, but he simply nodded. It was logical. And this was, after all, Commodore Norrington. He was almost stubborn enough to be in Jack's own league. Jack took the bow and the arrow from Raven's limp hands took the quiver away from her as well. Putting them to the side, he pulled her up and steered her back to her room.

"Lass, ye need to rest. Ye've been through a lot, even though I thank ye for saving my arse. He woulda blown a hole through my head fer sure."

Raven smiled weakly and allowed Jack to steer her into her cabin, where she lay down again to get some more sleep.

I KNOW! It's short. But I have this story in my head and it just wont be mixed…damn head…has to think for itself….oh well. Click ze reeveew boottone and geeve mee a reeveew pleezuh. Thank u dahlings. :P forgot to take my medication. im so corny. -.-


	3. Tortuga

I do not own POTC or any of the other characters in this story except for Raven.

Sorry it's taken me forever to get this up. I have a good reason! I got the lead role in a play, singing solo n all. See? I dun have time! But I'm totally gonna keep posting, as often as possible. So please, keep reviewing! And sorry about all the mistakes,one of theses days ill take the time to actually edit them all and fix everything, so please bare with me. ;-)

Chapter 3

Tortuga

The ship continued its journey for another week, heading in the direction of the infamous pirate island, Tortuga. Raven spent much of her time out on deck, watching and asking questions when she felt it was permitted. The crew didn't mind at all, she was always polite and quiet. More often then not, Jack was worried about Raven being out so long. He simply could not stand the idea of her getting sick and perhaps even dieing. Death was not pleasant, but neither was an ill crewmember.

On the 7th morning since the confrontation with Norrington, Jack was watching Raven as she talked amiably with Anna-Maria. Anna-Maria laughed, throwing her head back; Raven smiled warmly. Jack could feel the corners of his mouth threatening to pull up. The simple sight of Raven doing so well and bonding so well with his crew made him feel….he wasn't sure how to describe it. It was warm, happy, almost….safe. The seemed to be the feeling Raven inspired was safety. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stared down Norrington that made everyone let their guards down around her, but there was still something about her that you just had to trust, to like. Perhaps that was why Jack had grown so protective of Raven.

Raven and Anna-Maria parted, each going in opposite directions. Raven headed towards Jack, climbing the stairs to the helm slowly and calmly and, in that same calm stride, walked over to Jack and stood beside him at the wheel.

"Well, Captain," she said after a long while. "How much longer?" Jack quickly calculated the distance that remained before giving her an answer.

"Not much longer. I'd say we'd arrive at 'bout dusk." Raven nodded and watched the sea as though still thinking.

"Captain, it's best that I tell you a few things before we go a-shore. I don't want any of the crew coming to any unfortunate surprises because of me." Jack turned away from the ocean and looked directly at Raven for the first time, shocked at what she had just said. What could she have possibly done to cause his crew any trouble? And Norrington had definitely wanted her back to give to this Anderson, whoever he was. Jack stared at Raven for a few moments before speaking.

"Aye, ye can tell me, lass." Raven nodded slowly, still looking out towards the ever-shifting waters of the Caribbean.

"I am wanted in every city that is under England's control. Do not believe any of the stories you may hear of me, I am no criminal, I was simply ... in the wrong place at the wrong time. There will be many more soldiers trying to search this ship was it passes through certain straights and passages. I believe it may even be best that you let me off at Tortuga so I may find my own way and not cause any more trouble then I have already been."

Jack had turned back to sea as Raven had spoken, but he was still listening with rapt attention. He made no move as she spoke and stayed silent for a long time after she finished. Her simple speech had brought many questions up and many dilemmas. Jack thought about everything for a long time before he spoke again.

"Aight, lass. I 'ear ye. But I'm not goin' to simply let ye off in Tortuga with now means of protection or a way to survive. Before I say another word, le'me tell ye that ye'll not be leaving this ship to loose yerself in Tortuga. Tortuga's a bad place and yer in no shape to defend yerself. Secondly," Jack said emphatically, closely Raven's mouth that had already opened to argue. "I see no reason why I can't smuggle ye in me ship when I can other goods. Ye'll jus' learn to hide when yer told to. And last, I'm under the impression that yer a fast learner, unless what Anna tell me is false. So ye'll be able to take care of yer keep. And Ye've already proved ye've a level head e'en in a tight moment. So, with that said, I'm also telling ye that yer goin' to stay on this ship while I an' some of the crew go in to Tortuga. And ye'll stay hidden."

Raven was now the one staring at Jack, her mouth hanging loose in shock. Obviously, she hadn't expected Jack to keep her on–board. But now, it seemed that he wanted her as one of his crewmembers, despite that fact that she was still unable to use her hand much.

And Raven was right.

As Jack stepped into the crowded little pub, he instantly saw him. The soldier was probably 25, give or take a few years. This made him only a decade or so younger then Jack. But Jack could still pick him out instantly. The man's clothes were appropriately tattered and his hair looked scrubby, but it was clean and he had had nothing to drink nor had he beckoned for a whore. He simply sat at the table, his head down, eyes roaming. Jack grinned at him as their eyes met. The man's eyes narrowed somewhat in recognition.

Jack walked over to the bar and bought himself a drink before settling into the chair across form the man. After taking a sip, Jack spoke to the man.

"So, what would a prissy soldier like yerself be doin' h're in Tortuga?" Jack's tone was friendly, but his eyes glittered like stars in a winter sky. They were hard and dangerous and had the desired effect on the man, who, knowing full-well who Jack was jumped up to leave.

Jack was quicker. Despite his normally lethargic movements, he was on the man in an instant, his sword at the man's throat. He wasn't smiling anymore, but instead glared with all the force of a thousand gods.

But the man was no weakling. He quickly blocked Jack's sword from his throat and grabbed its pommel, making to twist it from Jack's grasp as he reached for his own sword. Jack rolled his arm around in a circular motion, loosening the man's grasp and lunging. The man was quick and parried, but Jack was much more experienced. Soon, he had backed the man out of the pub and onto the street. No one paid attention to them, most were either too drunk to care, or were smart enough to stay out of it.

When Jack had led the man to the far end of the street, where things were somewhat quieter then in front of the pub, he played his trump card. He let the soldier knock his sword out of his hand. The man took advantage of Jack's moment of weakness and lunged. Jack side stepped him and grabbed at his sword handle, tugging it out of his hand as he administered a swift kick to his behind, sending him straight into the compacted dirt street. The man rolled over to jump up but found himself once again at the wrong end of a blade. Jack held the man's sword to his throat as he stooped to pick up his own sword.

"Stand," he commanded. The man stood carefully, fear beginning to creep into his eyes. Jack wasn't known to be merciful with soldiers of the Royal Navy.

"Now," Jack began again. "I think ye should answer me question."

The man swallowed a few times. Then he seemed to gather courage. Jack sighed as he saw the all too common look of patriotism cover the soldier's eyes.

"Lad, don't say ye'll have to kill me, 'cause I'll gladly do just that."

The man bit his lip, and then finally spoke.

"Very well, Mr. Sparrow. There's no need to be violent, we are both gentlemen." Jack rolled his eyes again. Soldiers and their small talk. It was honestly pathetic, particularly as not one of them believed a pirate was worth anything short of worm food.

"Lad, do ye know who I am?"

The man nodded.

"You are Jack Sparrow, Captain of the Black pearl and you are also…"

"As much as I'd love to talk about me all day, I think its time to move on to yerself. What are ye doin' in Tortuga, an' don' make me ask again."

"Aye, Sir. I've been posted here to wait for and capture Miss Charron. I was told to kill any who got in my way."

Jack thought for a moment.

"And who sent ye?"

"Mr. Anderson, Sir."

Jack bit his lip. This Mr. Anderson again.

"And who is this Anderson ye speak of, then?"

It was the soldier's turn to look shocked.

"You've never heard of Mr. Anderson?"

Jack poked the sword a little deeper into the young man's throat, causing a grimace of pain.

"First off, I'm the one with the sword, so I'll be doin' the questionin'. Second off, I have heard of him, but who he is fails me. So, to the question." The man nodded nervously.

"Aye. Mr. Anderson is a wealthy man. He is the King's first cousin and next in line for the throne, unless a son is born. He owns many properties all over the world, but he is also a slave trader. He is very rich."

Jack's glare deepened. A slave trader. The bastard sold humans for money, when he had more then enough. Jack was one of the few people who believed that slaves were as human as the King of England. The only reason he was ever vocal with his opinions was because he was a pirate, for which he was forever thankful.

"So, why did Mr. Anderson the slave trader chose ye for this job, since he already knew ye'd have to deal with me."

"Because I am loyal not only to His Majesty, but also to Mr. Anderson. I promised to tell no one about my mission, particularly as the French does not wish for his daughter to come to harms way. He has already had signs posted offering rewards for her safe return. Mr. Anderson also wishes her safe return. He is so concerned that he is going so far as to use means as dramatic as myself."

Jack glared at the man for a few more moments. Then, without a way of him knowing, Jack brought the pommel of his sword down on the base of the man's lower neck, striking the section of nerves and knocking him out. Jack dropped the man's sword into a poorly tended flower garden and hastened to his ship, not even stopping back at the pub.

He growled under his breathe as he realized he had yet to even have a woman here. It was too late for that. He needed to take action quickly; who knew how many soldiers were posted on this island. Belatedly, he realized he should have asked, but it was too late now. The more he went on, the more he realized that Raven was more important then she looked. Obviously, she was the daughter of some obscure French lord or what-not. And she was Mr. Anderson's fiancée. But there was also something else, Jack was certain. Other wise, there would not be nearly this much clamor to get her back. Whatever happened, Jack knew things were better of to keep Raven out of the hands of anyone he didn't trust. She was in constant danger of being found.

By the time he had boarded his ship, Jack's mind had already digested all the information he had received that night and he already knew what actions he would take.

Almost copied led zepplin lyrics into here...joy. well, i gotta run to my practice, so please review!


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